Mitra's Bride
by Orphic Wordsmith
Summary: Post-game AU. Just because Count Arganan was destroyed by the Outsider physically didn't mean that his soul went into non-existence. Trapped within the Outsider itself, he finds himself sentenced to be Sentinel Beast Mitra's 'bride.' While adapting to his new role, Arganan wishes to regain his own physical body, refusing to be a mere soul forever. He gets it, but with consequences.
1. One with one another

**Author note: I do not own The Last Story.**

 **I'm admittedly a fan of the Sentinel Beasts, specifically Mitra, so I REALLY WANTED TO USE MITRA IN A FANFIC. And I've figured out how, in some way. In a possibly weird way. If you don't like, I ask that you just don't bother with flames, please. Thank you. XD**

 **Also, I like how Mystical Authoress gave Count Arganan a first name: Lucius. Though I will call him simply as Arganan in this fic, there will be times where he is adressed as "Lucius." Just thought I'd clear it up. XD**

 **Warning: Post-game AU, spoilers for the game, Zaelista, Lyrenne, possible other pairings, canon-typical violence. May be bumped up to M-rating depending on how intense/mature things get.**

 **Constructive Criticism would be great, and I hope that you read, review and enjoy! Thanks! XD**

* * *

 _ **Mitra's Bride**_

* * *

 _ **1\. One with one another**_

* * *

Within space, the Outsider gave life to all it encountered. It no longer took life—all it did was give, now, give to other forms that it passed within the metaphysical space it passed through.

Within the Outsider, something— _someone—_ stirred.

A long groan escaped him, and he lay there on the ground, keeping his one good eye shut. He just hoped it wasn't too bright, the space around him that is. He hesitantly tested his limbs, and to his surprise they worked. He slowly got to his feet, finding it difficult without a cane to help support him.

Oh thank goodness. It woudl be bad if they all got blown off when he got overwhelmed by the Outsider's power. He could barely remember those past moments. First he was slashing at the Outsider to give it its full potential to attack the Gurak and end them once and for all, and then this beast, this _thing_ went and began draining his energy.

It was as if his soul was being sucked out of him. It was an appropriate way to describe it, in his opinion. Out of all his experience on the battlefield (before and after the injuries that caused his need to rely on metallic limbs and a cane), that had to be the worst, even worse that sustaining the injuries on his left side.

A loud snort came to his left, and his good eye widened as he turned to see none other than that same beast right there beside him. It was asleep, however. The Sentinel Beast Mitra, Arganan remembered—that was its name? Yes, it had to be, that nature-controlling mercenary mentioned it during battle...

But why was he here with Mitra? It made no sense, unless...

Mitra was dead. Something like that, at least. The mercenaries did defeat the beast after all.

And he was here with him.

Which meant that _he_ was dead.

He felt his blood grow cold within him, and he shivered, looking about. Was this what an afterlife looked like? He'd never really believed in such things, but now that he was here he was almost willing to believe it. It was no dream. That was impossible—he was surely, truly, dead.

 _"...Your pain is caused by yourself. The pain you caused to her, to him, to them. You made all of that to drown your pain but it came in full circle..."_

He nearly gasped, but bit his lower lip, looking around. It could not have been Mitra that spoke, the beast was still asleep.

"Wh-who's there?" He managed, realizing that his voice sounded weak.

The voice that answered, the same as the one that spoke just before he did, had this sad tone to it, hints of femininity coursing through his ears. _"You never wanted to create that pain in the first place. Broken, defeated, shame crossing your senses. You are much like me when you held half of me captive."_

"Half of you?" Arganan echoed, his mind racing. He know who it was that was speaking.

...The Outsider was speaking to him? Could it truly be the Outsider itself? He never thought of such a rock that would be capable of speaking. But then again, the Outsider contained power beyond even the House of Arganan's magic. So anything really could be possible...

 _"Yes, half of me. You are much like the half of me that you kept captive—lonely like I am. As much as I empathize with you, however, I cannot let you go unscathed for what you have done to me, to others."_

"What?" He looked around. The voice of the Outsider was coming from all around him. "Wh-where am I, even? What's going on?"

The Outsider still sounded sad. _"You are here. Within me. Absorbed by me, for I overwhelmed you. I was too much for you to take for your physical existence. But the metaphysical you is within me, the only part of you left."_

A weak laugh escaped him, out of mortification rather than amusement. "I-I'm within you? Literally inside you? I-impossible..." He whispered. He held his head in his hands, pulling his hands away, gazing at his hands...

 _"Lucius Arganan."_

He looked up, dread beginning to overtake his system. He'd never heard anyone call him by his first name ever since Calista's parents (his older brother and sister and law) died. The way the Outsider said it was tenderly, almost motherly, but had a firmness to it. The Outsider was going to go through with his punishment. He braced himself, waiting for it to strike.

 _"As you are within me, as you are lonely, bitter from old and new hurts, you have lost your capability to truly love. From hereon until the ends of time, you are to be my guardian Mitra's bride."_

...

 _Bride?_

He could not believe it.

"Th-that's impossible!" He blubbered, knowing he was making a fool out of himself but he knew he had to voice it, it _didn't feel right_ in any way but it was his punishment— "B-brides are meant to be women, I am no—"

 _"Not a woman. I know. But this type of 'bride' is different. You may not be in holy matrimony, but you will be forever bound to Mitra, and Mitra will be forever bound to you. You will both feel the same, think similarly if not the same...understand each other, be one with one another. That is what you gain from this."_

He looked to his left to see the Sentinel Beast Mitra begin to awaken as the Outsider's voice faded.

 _"You will never be lonely again."_

There was silence, save for Arganan's own breathing and the growing sound of Mitra's movements. The white Sentinel Beast, shimmering a soft blue glow, let a soft purr escape it as its eyes met Arganan's good one. The older man felt his breath hitch, felt himself instinctively move away, but he wasn't fast enough.

As if he was a marionette, he felt a strange, pulling force, pulling him closer and closer to Mitra. He tried to struggle, but the struggle was in vain. The next thing he knew was that he was standing right beside Mitra, who towered above him. He flinched—Mitra had tried to kill him during their last encounter. And now that he was eternally bound to Mitra, being the Sentinel Beast's _bride_ of all things, it could do anything to him. It was more powerful than him.

It could kill him over and over and yet they would still be bound to one another. It could be torturous.

So when Mitra leaned its head over to get a closer look at him, Arganan did nothing but stand still, holding back his breath, waiting for Mitra to rear its head up and obliterate him. He closed his good eye, not wanting to watch his own demise destroy him in a flash of white light.

Instead, he felt something large nudge against his left side, and Arganan nearly fell over if he did not catch himself in time.

Arganan blinked, and realized that it was Mitra's head nudging him, as if concerned. The dragon creature probably knew from the Outsider itself that it had Arganan as its 'bride,' whatever that truly meant, and Arganan wasn't sure whether to feel completely relieved yet. Mitra nudged him again, but tried to do it a bit more gently.

The (former) Count of Lazulis wasn't sure what to do at first. It was obvious the Sentinel Beast was trying to be kind, probably because it didn't want to expend any energy on killing him repeatedly. That was a good thing.

Arganan lifted his hand of flesh, and settled it onto Mitra's jaw, stroking upwards awkwardly, before he tried to reach higher to stroke the fur near what he guessed was its nose. Mitra lowered its head as best as it could so Arganan could reach. After a moment, Arganan pulled his arm back, looking to Mitra.

"So," He managed hesitantly, taking a breath before continuing, "I suppose we're stuck with each other for eternity. Penny for your thoughts...?"

The Sentinel Beast Mitra merely made some strange purring sound, and he decided that he would just keep petting it in silence, as he didn't know how to respond to that.


	2. A wish (and consequences)

_**2\. A wish (and consequences)**_

* * *

If there was one advantage to being within the Outsider in only the form of his own soul, Arganan guessed, it was that he never really felt thirsty. Or hungry. Probably because he was technically dead in a way, that only his physical form needed to eat, drink, and other bodily functions.

However, he found himself sleeping a lot. Perhaps it was due to simply being nothing but a soul, trapped within the Outsider with only Mitra as real company, but he longed to truly have a physical, human form again.

He kind of missed eating and drinking. Hell, he missed feeling a heart pound within him.

He leaned against Mitra gently, sitting in the ground and leaning into its fluffy mane. He slowly stroked Mitra's mane with his right hand.

"Mitra?"

Mitra perked up, turning its head slightly to look at him. The two had a mutual bond with each other, in a good way. They kept each other company (they were forced to anyway whether they liked it or not) and it was alright. Unfortunately, Mitra could not speak like other humans could, so Arganan often had to guess about what it was trying to say to him.

He paused, before speaking.

"Will I be stuck with you in a spiritual form forever? Or will I ever gain a physical form again?" He sighed. "I know that I'm...lucky to end up with you, here, instead of being repeatedly obliterated or worse, but still."

He leaned his head against Mitra, closing his one good eye. "Is it...bad that I want to be human?"

Mitra purred softly as Arganan opened his eye again, as if trying to comfort him.

 _"I could grant you a physical form to walk in your world again."_

It was the Outsider that spoke. Arganan stood, gently petting Mitra as he looked around, then figured it was futile as he was literally inside the Outsider.

"Y-you could?" He responded. He felt a bit stupid—of course the Outsider could probably read his mind and hear him and know what exactly he was doing, since he was inside the Outsider itself. He probably shouldn't voice it aloud so much. "You...don't have to. You already sentenced me to be Mitra's bride, and that alone is something I accept..."

 _"Yes. I see that you have accepted it. But you don't really know what I mean by 'bride' other than 'companion for eternity.' You will find out what else comes with it. If I am to grant you your physical, human form to walk upon the earth you lived on, are you willing to bear the consequences of your reappearing existence in your original world?"_

Arganan tried to think. What _were_ the consequences of him regaining a physical human form, besides having to eat and drink and other things? It was only him coming back to human existence, right?

Well, if Calista or someone else ever knew of his live human existence, who knows what could happen? That must be the consequence that the Outsider was most concerned about.

But consequences were outweighed, at that moment, by Arganan's desire to be able to live, to have a physical human existence...

"I accept," He spoke, his words heavy, naivete of the true consequences hanging in his head. "I accept."

The Outsider sounded like it was smiling, before a soft blue glow appeared about Arganan and Mitra.

 _"Arganan...you will learn so much. Perhaps there where you once lived and soon will live again—you will learn there the full responsibility of being Mitra's Bride."_

With that, Lucius Arganan and Sentinel Beast Mitra both vanished from the inside of the Outsider itself, their existences hurtling back to earth.

* * *

In the Last World, three beings stirred.

The first woke up by himself,wincing as a wound flared up in his chest. Though he proclaimed his glory to Lord Zangurak as he fell and passed from this world, in reality he could only think of his twin brother.

At first he was silent, but then realized that he was alone. Sitting up, he put a hand to his chest, wincing as he felt it sting. The stab healed, surprisingly, despite the fact that it shouldn't have. Did someone try to heal him, or...?

It couldn't be. How was he alive again? This had to be a dream. He looked to the floor, expecting to see a corpse of himself down there, but didn't. How strange. So was he alive?

He placed a hand to his neck to feel for a pulse, and felt it.

 _Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump._

Yes, he was alive. His breath hitched at this. He didn't know who could have done this, bring him back to life that is, but he knew that it didn't matter right now.

What mattered right now was finding his brother. And he could sense that his brother was not here.

Zepha took a deep breath, hoping that he had enough strength to teleport to where exactly his brother was, to be with him, and vanished from the Last World an instant later.

* * *

The second and third beings in the Last World would wake up. The second being woke up first, looking around as he hesitantly got to his feet. Good. He didn't feel too weak, he could move.

Where were his friends? A pang of guilt went through his system. With the last of his power, he'd used it to restore Lowell's life, having guessed that he must have fallen at the hands of Zangurak or maybe Zepha and Zesha.

Well, he had to do something. He had to properly apologize—what he said before he died was not enough in his opinion.

He walked out of the hall he battled his friends in, intending to make his way out.

Along the way, he noticed the third being on the ground, armless and having just woke up moments ago. The two looked each other in the eyes.

"So," The second being started, "We meet again."

The third being winced slighty, struggling not to show the pain, looking to him as he held his stump of a former arm with his only hand. "Yes. We do meet again."

They were both silent. The second being looked to his lack of an arm, golden eyes glittering in the dim light of the room.

"You're not going to try to kill me, are you? I mean, that's pretty stupid right now. You've lost an arm and I took your Outsider's Power because of it. You don't even have a weapon—"

"I am not that foolish, human." The third being snapped. He ran his hand through his wild red hair, knowing that nothing fruitful would come out of cradling a wound, and he tried to look a bit decent—hard to do considering he lost the Outsider's power and an arm. "Since we both happen to be the only ones here, what do you plan to do, Dagran?" He chuckled coldly. "Kill me?"

Dagran shook his head. "No. I won't. No point if we're not at equal level, really. And I have more important things to do than dealing with you." He walked forwards, intending to walk past Zangurak.

Zangurak observed him quietly, letting Dagran pass him at first. Did they have any need for an alliance? No, not anymore.

"Hu—Dagran." He managed after some silence.

Dagran turned to face him. "What? You actually want to try to kill me, or should I kill you? Look, I don't want to deal with you right now. You're at my bottom of my list for that."

Zangurak frowned. "Do you actually believe that you'll be welcomed so easily by your friends? You betrayed them." He reminded him.

"I know." Dagran looked to him. "I'm going to earn back their trust. No matter how long it takes. I don't know what you will do, what with probably no longer being even King of the Gurak."

The armless Gurak glared at him. "I'll regain my position." He snapped. "Or at least find a place for myself in my opinion. You'll see."

Dagran merely waved at him with his hand as he walked away.

"Good luck."

* * *

"Hello!? _H-hello?_ I-is anyone— _anyone—"_

His cry was strangled as he held onto the mast tightly with both hands to support himself, and he nearly puked from standing on the rocking, creaking ship. Looking about, his eyes moving in a frenzy, he realized he was alone on this ship. Running a hand through his long dirty-blond hair, then looking to his hands and then to his chest (noticing a nasty scar on his chest from a stab wound in the process), he remembered.

He'd dueled Zael. And he lost. Humiliation bubbled through him. What would his family say if they heard of it...?

No, his family probably thought he was dead already. Of course. He was not worth anything to them.

He shivered, sitting on the wooden ground, not caring how grimy the ship was as a whole at the moment. What was he going to do?

But more importantly, why was he alive? And why now?

* * *

In a crypt under Lazulis Castle, one former Supreme General woke up to darkness.

He tried to shift around, but found it incredibly hard to—there were walls on all sides. Trying to shift upwards managed him to bump his head, and he groaned at that. Not exactly a nice awakening, no. He managed to move enough so that his limbs could actually move if not the rest of his body, and he tested the area around him by pressing his hands forwards.

His hands meet cold wood and stone.

He was in a coffin.

He struggled, pushing against what he guessed was the lid, with all his strength, but it wasn't budging. Was he that severely weakened since Dagran killed him? It was hard to believe, but if he was dead, but now was alive, his muscles underneath might have atrophied too much for him to..

No, no, do not panic. As a knight he must not panic. He pushed forwards again, banging his fist again the lid, pain spilling from his lips, his chest, his fist, his—

The coffin lid opened from the outside, and emerald eyes bore into Asthar's own. Asthar's breath was shaky as Therius extended a hand towards him, eyes wide in belief and disbelief all at once.

"General?" The white knight managed, his extended hand shaky. Asthar took it, took it tightly, and with some effort the white knight managed to pull him out of the coffin and get him to his feet. "H-how? Y-you died..."

Asthar tried to smile, and he chuckled weakly. "I don't know, Therius. I'm..." He took a deep breath. "I'm just glad to see you."

Therius smiled back at him slightly, relief flooding his eyes. "I'm glad to see you again also, General."

The two were silent, letting the shock of the situation hit them, before Asthar spoke up.

"Therius?"

Therius looked up. "Yes, General?"

Asthar bit his lower lip. Time must have passed by since his death, yes? "How long has it been since I died...?"

Therius winced. "About a month. Much has happened—though I am happy to tell you that the war between the Gurak and Lazulis no longer continues. Zael and his friends put an end to it only weeks ago. I would have gone back to the Empire sooner, General, to train virtuous knights for Lazulis, but I felt the need to stay here and help with things..."

Asthar nodded, resting a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "It is good that you have such plans. And I am glad you stayed to help, and that the war is no longer happening. Is there anything else I should know?"

The white knight nodded. "Yes, General, but...your eyes are bloodshot. Y-you're weak. I should get you to a proper bedroom with a proper bed and you should rest..."

Asthar chuckled slightly. "It's alright, Therius. I can handle it. It would be nice to strech my limbs after being stuck in a coffin, after all. Go ahead and tell me everything."

Therius nodded, smiling. "As you command, General."

Asthar grinned slightly at this. _Same Therius as always._

The thought of why or how he came back to life, though, did not cross his mind until later.


	3. United concern

**_3\. United concern_**

Arganan kept his good eye closed at first. He was in a sitting position, his back against a wall, and he didn't hear anything else except for the tick-tock of a clock and his own breathing.

He slowly opened his one good eye, taking a look around. He could barely believe what he was seeing.

He was in his chambers. In Lazulis Castle. Looking down, he put his right hand to his neck, feeling for a pulse.

 _Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump..._

He was alive. He had a physical flesh form. He was alive again—!

That was when he heard voices from outside the room.

 _"General Asthar is alive!?"_ Calista could be heard gasping.

 _"Yes, Lady Calista."_ That was Therius, his voice solemn. _"I've sent him to the hospital wing after explaining what happened with the rest of the war between the Gurak and Lazulis. He's resting right now, I believe. You and Zael can visit him in the morning..."_

 _"I-I—"_ Calista shuddered. _"I can't believe it. He just literally woke up in his coffin and started banging against the lid, trying to get out!?"_

 _"Yes. That is what happened. I'm still in shock myself, I admit!"_

Arganan blinked, slowly getting to his feet and regaining his balance. He cursed the lack of a cane with him, but he leaned against the wall to stay standing. His legs felt like jelly for the moment and he needed to get used to his surroundings.

Another thought crossed his mind.

 _Mitra..._

Looking around, he realized the Sentinel Beast was not with him.

 _Where is he—she—it?_

He felt his chest burn, and he put his flesh hand to his chest. He then undid the buttons of his shirt just a bit, tracing what felt like a scar. He frowned. He didn't remember getting this at the time of his previous death. He looked into a mirror...

...and soon realized what it was.

There was a mark on his chest, a _scar_ on his chest, glowing with a bluish-white light temporarily before it faded. It was in the shape of an M, but the ends of the M seemed to curl up slightly, and the texture of the scar didn't feel like any regular scar. If anything, it felt like dragon scales, but softer, like feathers and fur.

He thought back to when he was talking to Mitra, leaning against him and nuzzling into its fur...

"Oh shit." He whispered to himself, his good eye wide.

Mitra was literally inside him, in spirit form at least. Or that was what Arganan guessed.

How _else_ could Mitra still be with him forever and ever? Was this what it meant to be Mitra's bride—that even in a physical, human form he would still feel the bond he had with Mitra? That must be part of it.

That was when Calista opened the door, gasp tearing from her throat.

"U-Uncle!?"

He gasped, quickly rebuttoning his shirt as he looked to her.

"C-Ca..Calista." He managed softly, realizing that his voice was actually quite hoarse. He wasn't sure what to say, let alone what to _do._

What was he supposed to do?

* * *

All that was answered for Arganan once Zael then walked in on him and Calista, and then three just tried to calm down and talk.

Zael explained everything. Zangurak was dead, Zepha was dead, Lazulis gained victory over the Gurak...

And Arganan spoke of what happened to him after he was absorbed by the Outsider, of his punishment of being Mitra's Bride.

Calista frowned as she heard about the Mitra's Bride part. "Mitra's Bride? So, uncle..." She blushed slightly. "You're married to a Sentinel Beast—Mitra?"

Arganan felt his face heat up slightly. "Well, not exactly the type of marriage like in this world. I think the Outsider meant it in a different way. That I'm supposed to be bound to Mitra forever. And—" He undid his shirt a little, showing them the scar he saw earlier. "I think this is supposed to be a symbol of my 'marriage.' I don't completely know what my role really means, to be honest."

Zael nodded, trying to think. "Maybe it means you have the Power of the outsider like I do. Or maybe not. Mitra's Bride might be similar, I'm guessing."

Arganan blinked. _Power of the Outsider?_ That made sense, since Mitra was connected to the Outsider...

But then again he wasn't entirely sure.

"Calista—" He looked to his niece, "I heard you and Zael speak earlier about General Asthar being alive again?"

Calista nodded. "Yes, uncle. He woke up in his coffin. Had it not been for Therius being there, he might have suffocated and died again."

"And this only happened today?"

"Yes...only moments before we found you."

Arganan winced. Perhaps...perhaps others were resurrected simply because of the fact that Arganan gained a physical form again?

He looked up at Zael. "Who else has died?"

Zael winced. "Dagran died. Same with Jirall, and Zangurak and his right-hand man Zepha..."

"Shit." The word escaped Arganan faster than he thoguht. He'd all interacted with them in some way, yes? Maybe not the Gurak so much, but indirectly through battle, yes...

 _Did they all come back to life because of me coming back to life?_

 _...Well shit._

* * *

Zesha paced about his guest room, unsure of what to think, say, do.

He'd come to Lazulis, having taken over as King of the Gurak. Peace treaties and such were done ages ago, but the real issue was now this.

The Gurak people wanted to see him happy.

And now all the Gurak nobles were ganging up on him, pressuring him to _marry._

Marriage. It brought a sour taste to his senses. Thinking about it didn't feel right to him. He didn't want to marry. Not now at least. He'd rather see his people be happy through their land being restored, being reunited with their families, having enough to eat...

So why were they having their happiness so dependent on him? He understood that as King of the Gurak he needed to be strong for his people because it was good for morale and all that, but still. They should be able to be happy on their own with what they have too.

It almost felt like, for him at least, things were better during the war against Lazulis.

Because back then his brother was there with him. But no longer...Zepha died during the war.

His thoughts would be cut by the sound of Zepha's voice.

"Brother?"

Zesha's eyes widened. It couldn't be possible. He looked up, seeing none other than his brother, standing in front of him. The King of the Gurak stood, hesitantly, shakily, extending a hand to touch his brother's face. sensing his heartbeat, feeling him breathe.

"I-Impossible." Zesha let that word escape him.

Zepha shook his head. "No, brother. It's really me. I'm not an illusion. I am right here, standing in front of you..."

Zesha didn't let him finish, and instead embraced him tightly, nearly wanting to cry but tried his damned hardest to hold back. "B-brother...how?" He managed. "Y-you died. I could sense it! I went to avenge you, but they overpowered me..." He looked down. "I feel pathetic to have let them beat me."

Zepha hugged him in return, noticing his brother's change of clothing. He still looked like he was wearing armor, but it was more elaborately designed, and there was gold crown nestled on his head, twisted into a circlet that looked simple at the front, but trailed into his long locks of whitish-blond hair at the back, decorated with reddish-amber jewels, draped over the back of his head similarly to a spider web.

Zepha soon realized the implication. "Brother..." He felt his breath hitch. "Did Lord Zangurak...?"

His brother looked down, hesitation and fear lacing his demeanor as he spoke. "He was killed by the other user of the Outsider, Zael. I'm sorry I could not stop him."

Zepha wasn't sure how to feel. He was entirely sure that none of it was truly Zesha's fault (for how could he blame his brother? Surely his own death must have shaken Zesha hugely for the human mercenaries to defeat him). But if Lord Zangurak was defeated—he looked to Zesha.

Zesha had taken over as King of the Gurak.

Zepha hugged him even tighter. "Brother. I'm not angry at you that this happened. This was not your fault." He whispered. "They cut you down when they knew you were at your weakest. Had I not died, you would be strong enough to defeat them single handedly, surely—"

"Brother, they beat us once previously _and_ they injured you." Zesha responded, looking into his eyes.

 _They would have beat us either way._

Zepha felt sick to his stomach at that. They were supposed to be nearly unstoppable, to lead their fellow Gurak into victory.

And instead utter defeat happened at the hands of the humans from Lazulis.

Zepha kept embracing his brother quietly, gently. "What happened afterwards?" He whispered.

Zesha seemed to flinch, but then relaxed. "There were peace treaties. Lazulis and the Gurak will no longer be at war with each other. And I am now King of the Gurak, as you may have noticed. And—" He sighed. "Though the conditions of our Continent and our people fare much better now, they are pressuring me to marry."

Zepha stared at him. "Marry?" He repeated.

Zesha groaned, nodding in response as he pulled back a bit to look him in the eye. "It's to continue the lineage that I was forced to take over...for the sake of having a future King or Queen. But I have no desire to marry. At all. Nobles come flocking to me day by day and it irritates me. I have no interest in any of them. Why—" He winced, "A few of said nobles attempted to proposition me already. I turned them down. I even once had to get my guards to escort one away as she would not leave it behind her."

Zepha just hugged him. "Surely they will stop talking to you about it. Have you tried to tell them up straight about it?"

"Yes. But it made things worse." He sighed. "I'd be more happy if our people were completely at peace and everyone's basic needs were fulfilled than me being married. I don't care about my own well-being at the moment, save for preventing myself from being married."

Zepha nodded. "I understand what you're thinking. It would be far better for the people to have basic needs fulfilled. It would help them immensely. But you getting married would certainly raise morale also among our people. They want a monarchy that will be stable, and marrying seems to be the only way to keep it stable, unfortunately..."

Zesha nodded. The two sat down on the bed beside each other, and Zepha let his brother bury his face into his neck.

"Brother?" Zesha spoke up after some silence.

Zepha gently ran a hand through his brother's hair. "Yes, Zesha?"

"Be my advisor. Stay with me." He looked up at him. "Don't ever leave me again, please."

Zepha could see it now.

Everything after his death had broken his brother.

Zepha kissed his brother's forehead, embracing him tightly. "I won't ever leave you again." He whispered. "I swear it. I will stay with you forever."

Zesha nearly cried, but held it back as he embraced him tightly in return.

Zepha, as he consoled his brother, thought quickly, frustration rising his his chest.

Whoever had a hand in breaking his brother would _never_ do it again. He would not allow it.

And he would be the one who would help his brother get back to normal, to the old Zesha, to the Zesha that could stand on both feet and not be weak in the knees no matter what hit him.


	4. Stable

_**4\. Stable**_

By the next day, Asthar was let out of the hospital wing and it was revealed that Zepha was also alive again, which worried Arganan at first. Thankfully, Zepha was not going to be killing anyone, anytime soon. That was the good news.

The bad news was that it gave a greater sign to him that Zangurak could be coming back to life, too.

Arganan wasn't sure whether to feel happy or mortified about the entire situation. It was good that he had a physical, living human form now (and it turned out that Mitra was literally in his body as he could sense how Mitra was feeling even when it looked like that Mitra wasn't physically with him), but if it resulted in others coming back to life...

What if it resulted in Zangurak coming back to life? Surely that wouldn't be good.

He then thought of Jirall Rambaldt—the person originally betrothed to Calista before Zael came along. Zael said that he'd been forced to defeat and nearly kill Jirall in battle, as Jirall went completely mad from Zangurak's influence. Would Jirall's state of mind, if he came back to life, still be full of such madness?

Arganan opened his good eye as he lay on his bed, thinking. He'd gone to sleep in his clothes the day before, not bothering to change into night attire as he was too preoccupied with all the thoughts in his head. His thoughts wandered from his own predicament, and then to Jirall, then to Calista and Zael briefly before coming back to Jirall.

Was there a way to reach Jirall, even, if the heir of Rambaldt came back to life?

Arganan felt his chest get warm, and he looked down to see the mark on his chest glowing a bit.

"What the—"

He disappeared in a heartbeat.

* * *

Jirall paced about one of the ship's rooms, lighting a lantern with a match he found from a small box earlier. He held it upwards, looking around. The sun was setting, he was hungry and thirsty and sore, and no ship had been in sight. He figured that no ship would be out right now, that he would have to hold on until morning to see if anyone would arrive.

His head felt clear. That was good. It felt clearer than when he dueled Za—

 _Don't think of him, Jirall, stop it._ He whispered to his own mind. _It's not making things any better right now, just stop it. You need to survive._

What if no one came? The fear struck him almost like lightning. He shuddered, wrapping his arms about himself after putting the lantern on a nearby table, before grabbing a grimy blanket and trying to wrap it about it himself. He didn't care that it was grimy right now, he just wanted to stay _warm—_

Footsteps suddenly resounded. He flinched.

Those footsteps were _on this ship._

He threw the blanket off himself, holding up his lantern and listening, standing. The footsteps were getting closer. A voice from outside, obviously male, was cursing slightly as the footsteps approached his door. The echoes of footsteps stopped. Jirall looked down to see through the slit under the door that there were feet there. Tha someone was standing right in front of his room.

Mustering up what little courage he held, he gripped the handle of the lantern tightly, sucking a deep breath into his lungs as the door opened.

One person, one very familiar person opened the door, standing in the doorway and staring at him with near terror on his face.

"Jirall?"

Jirall couldn't believe what he was seeing. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his other hand not holding the lantern, and he stared again.

 _"You."_ He managed, after a moment.

Count Arganan stood there, opposite him. The older man looked surprised, and his clothing was disheveled slightly, but otherwise he looked the same as he always did. Wait—

No, there was something different. That bluish mark on his chest, glowing from underneath his shirt, had not been there before.

The heir of Rambaldt ( _no longer the heir,_ Jirall reminded himself, he'd been _disowned_ by his own family after being arrested for the crime he never did.) stared at the mark, before hearing the older man cough slightly. Looking up so that they were seeing each other literally eye to eye, Arganan spoke up.

"So," He managed after more silence, "You came back to life, too."

Jirall didn't know how to react. What the hell was the Count talking about?

"What do you mean?" He spoke, wincing at his still hoarse voice. "This isn't a damned dream?"

Arganan shook his head. "No, Jirall, it's not. I'm alive, you're alive, and—" He looked around, his expression turning to frustration. "I have no idea how I got here in the first place, dammit."

Jirall stared at him in disbelief. "How the hell can you just suddenly appear on this ship and not know how you got here? Were you kidnapped or something?" He snapped.

The older man gave him a cold look. "No, and all I know is that the I was in my room in Lazulis Castle and now I ended up here." He went silent, closing his good eye. "I was wondering where you were. Being Mitra's Bride, I wouldn't be surprised if I have the power to teleport to where others are if I think of them."

Jirall blinked. "Mitra's...what?" He managed.

Arganan's face went slightly red, and tried to regain composure. "Mitra's Bride, alright!? If you're going to laugh, go ahead, but this particular role does not mean I'm married to a Sentinel Beast!"

Jirall knew that he had no idea what the older man was talking about, and chose to refrain from laughing, or even commenting. Taking a deep breath ( _one, two, three, must restrain the anger it won't help, channel it into something else)_ he tried to think of what else to say other than frustrating, angry things that wouldn't help either of them. Thankfully, he did come up with something.

"If you thought of finding me...could you think of getting back to Lazulis Castle with me? Could be our only way off his grimy shipwreck."

Arganan looked up at him, gazing at him for a moment as if making sure he heard it correctly, before nodding.

"That does make sense, I suppose." He put a hand over the blue glow under his shirt. "I remember touching this while thinking about you. That's how I got here, I suppose—through teleportation. I can't think of how else." He bit his lower lip, looking up at Jirall and extending a hand towards him. "I can get us both back to Lazulis Castle. I think I can, at least, if your theory is correct."

Jirall hesitated. Could he trust him—could he trust the man that threw him in prison once already?

Well, better than being on this ship, yes? Jirall took a deep breath, taking the older man's metal hand in his—

* * *

"And that's what happened." Arganan finished telling to Calista and Zael.

Although it was good to know that Jirall was now fine and in a decent mental state (better than what Zael described in his one duel with Jirall), it did not help Arganan that after returning to Lazulis and explaining the whole Mitra's Bride thing to Jirall that the disowned Rambaldt started laughing a little.

 _"B-bride!? D-dammit, you—seriously? Did you already consummate it?"_

 _"Shut the hell up before I decide to send you back to the ship!"_

Yes, that had been awkward. Arganan decided it was better to not tell Calista and Zael about that part.

Calista nodded. "I see." She looked to the door to the guest room Jirall was resting in at the moment. "I'm glad you were able to find him, uncle..."

Zael looked to the guest room door. "I think I'm going to talk to him as soon as he wakes. I...I need to talk to him." He spoke quietly. He looked down, guilt making itself apparant about him.

Calista frowned as she looked to her husband. "Zael, this wasn't your fault. It's not your fault Jirall went mad, it was Zangurak's. We've been through this."

Arganan winced. He didn't know how bad this discussion had went through his niece and his nephew-in-law, but he didn't want to know at the moment.

"Erm, I think I'll go rest for now. I'll see you both later." He managed.

Both Calista and Zael both said their goodbyes. Arganan walked down the hallway, putting a hand to his chest. He shuddered slightly. Even when wearing all his clothes properly he could still feel the mark on his skin, even when it wasn't glowing and emanating heat. Lowering his hand, he stopped as soon as he heard voices.

Zesha and Zepha's voices, to be exact.

 _"Do you think Lord Zangurak will be in existence in this world?"_ Zesha was heard speaking. _"You heard Zael and Calista earlier..."_

 _"I believe so."_ Zepha responded, voice solemn as always. _"He must be. It would make no sense for him not to be—especially since the former Count of Lazulis has come back, as well as the disowned Rambaldt that Lord Zangurak once allied with, and General Asthar also."_

 _"What about Dagran? He allied with Lord Zangurak. It would make sense for him to come back, too."_

Arganan felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and he turned to meet who it was.

Dagran's golden eyes bore right into his one good eye, and he put a finger to his lips.

"Hey." His voice was low, in a whisper. "Don't say a word. Pretend you never saw me, okay Count?"

"Dagran?" Arganan managed, after stunned silence.

 _He came back to life too._

Arganan backed away from Dagran, who let go of him and walked down the hallway, turning the corner presumably to face the Gurak brothers.

"Hey, what are you saying about me?" The mercenary leader spoke up, crossing his arms. "I could hear you from down the hallway. You might want to be a bit softer, you know."

"You..." Zepha was heard speaking, his voice coming into a growl. "We know what you did."

"Yeah, I know. I figured you would." Dagran responded, still standing where he was, keeping his gaze on them it seemed. "Can I pass by you and request that you tell no one about my presence right now? It's important."

"And why should we?" Zesha responded, nearly coming into a snarl. "What do we get out of this, Dagran...?"

Dagran didn't even flinch. "You get word of silence from me. You won't hear of me going and telling everybody rumors about Zangurak resurrecting."

Zepha could be heard gasping. "You know about Lord Zangurak? _Tell us!"_

Dagran took a deep breath, letting his hands drop to his sides. "Well, he's alive. And he's pretty pissed, though lacking an arm and weapon right now. Don't know where he is, but when I last saw him he said something about wanting to regain power."

 _He's alive._

 _He's alive he's alive he's alive he's alive—_

The words echoed through Arganan, and the Count couldn't get himself to stay any longer, retreating to his room instantaneously.

 _Zangurak is alive, too._


	5. Wonder

**_5\. Wonder_**

He walked through the the hallways of Lazulis Castle quietly, moonlight shimmering from the windows. He did his best to stay within the shadows, within darkness, tried to keep his footsteps as quiet as he could.

He cursed quietly to himself.

 _The Lance isn't in the armory._

It then transitioned to—

 _Dagran._

 _"Good luck," he said._

 _Damn it._

He slowly opened the door to a room, finding none other than Count Arganan asleep in bed. Walking into the room and slowly closing the door behind him, he approached the older man lying in the bed.

 _So, this is where the Count of Lazulis sleeps. I could kill him now._

It was true. He _could_ kill him, kill his enemy as he was sleeping.

But wasn't that also pathetic that he, (formerly) King of the Gurak (he heard from whispering guards and servants that Zesha took over as King following his death) had to resort to something as low as killing the enemy in his sleep to conquer them?

It truly did feel pathetic.

 _Fine. He gets away for now...what is this?_

That was the moment he noticed a M-shaped mark just below Arganan's collarbone. He blinked, lowering a hand to trace it gently. He remembered hearing of something like this before...

That was when the mark glowed slightly, a faint blue, before fading. It glowed again moments later, but faded out, and continued the pattern. Zangurak pulled his hand away, gazing at it curiously. He definitely read something about this before, no, wrote about it before. He had a dream once, back when he possessed the Gurak's half of the Outsider's power.

 _Mitra's Bride. It has to be._

 _...Shit he's Mitra's Bride. Him of all people._

 _I need to tread carefully..._

* * *

Arganan woke up. His hand of flesh reached straight for his scar, touching it.

He thought he felt someone touching his scar. The touch...the skin was rough, but gently tracing his scar. As if it knew that it was familiar. Sitting up on bed, he looked around, before noticing that the door leading to outside his room was not completely closed.

Somebody came into his room and touched his mark.

Why?

There was a knock at his door, and he quickly grabbed a robe (he'd been sleeping naked more often lately, he felt warmer than he usually did when he slept—was it because of the fact that Mitra's spirit was sharing his body too or something like that), wrapping it about himself and trying to look decent as he opened the door despite lacking an arm (it was still resting on the bedtable).

Dagran's golden eyes bore straight into his, and Arganan found himself stepping back slightly.

"Dagran..."

Dagran looked, well, the same as he always did.

Save for the large rip in his shirt with a scar on his chest.

Arganan winced. "They stabbed you?"

Dagran frowned, putting a hand over his chest scar. "Zael had to." He managed, his voice slightly hoarse. He swallowed a bit before continuing. "It was the only way. I know it's sudden, but do you mind if I come in? I've been running around the castle all night finding a hiding spot for Zangurak's Lance and I need a place to take a breather since I got that accomplished."

Arganan nodded, quickly letting him in. It felt strange, seeing Dagran again. Yes, the two had often discussed together, in meetings and all, but this was far different than usual conversation. Both of them were supposed to be dead originally, for starters.

The other thing was...wait, what did Dagran say about last night?

"Dagran?"

Dagran looked to him, closing the door behind them. "Yes?"

"Why were you running around all night and trying to find a hiding spot for Zangurak's Lance, which I assume is his only weapon?"

Dagran winced. "Do I really need to tell you right now, Count?"

Arganan gave him a look, trying to be intimidating as possible despite being so indecently dressed at the moment. "Yes."

"Okay...okay." The two sat down on Arganan's bed, and Arganan looked to Dagran, who took a deep breath and started speaking, looking to him. "The reason I was running around last night with Zangurak's Lance was because I know that Zangurak is in this castle. He followed me. I've been trying to stay out of his sight while trying to get the Zan Lance—that's the name of his weapon. I found it in the armory, guessed it would be the first place Zangurak would look, and so I took it last night after running into you and the Gurak brothers. That's why I asked you stay silent last night—if word spread around the castle about me, Zangurak would have been more frantic to find his weapon."

"Why would Zangurak be so desperate to get his weapon back?" The older man asked. "Couldn't he just use his Outsider's—" He stopped midsentence, remembering what Zael told him about Zangurak ripping off his arm, Dagran stabbing that same arm to obtain...

He looked to Dagran's arm.

Sure enough, the orangey-red mark on Dagran's hand was there.

"Oh." Arganan managed. "Right. Should I assume he's lacking an arm also?"

Dagran nodded. "Yeah. He is."

"Right." The two were silent for a moment.

Arganan tried to think. Zangurak was lurking about in this castle...

"Do you know where Zangurak is, Dagran?"

"You mean, where exactly he is in the castle? I've got no clue, sorry."

Before either of them could say much else, that was when Asthar entered the room.

"Count Arganan? Are you awa—" He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze snapping towards Dagran. "I..." the General's words caught in his throat, unsure of what to say.

Dagran couldn't bring himself to say anything, and Arganan winced.

 _Victim, meet killer again. Killer, meet victim again._

 _Well this is just lovely._

"Come in." Arganan managed, making eye contact with the formerly-dead General. "Neither of us are biting."

Asthar nodded, closing the door behind him quietly before turning to them. "I'm not quite sure what to say now, I admit. I hadn't expected your return, Dagran."

Dagran took a deep breath, looking to him. "I kind of expected yours. Considering that Jirall, Zangurak, Zepha and Count Arganan are alive, it should be expected that both of us would be alive too."

"True." They were silent once again before Asthar spoke. "Do you know what really happened back then, now?"

"Yeah." Dagran nodded. "I ran into Therius last night while trying to hide Zangurak's Lance and he told me everything." He looked up at Asthar. "I'm..sorry. For killing you without thinking, without really looking into it."

Asthar shook his head, smiling slightly. "No, lad. It's fine. It's fine for you to be angry about it all. I was only taking responsibility. It didn't feel right for me not to do that. I was their leader, I failed them."

"But..." Dagran then paused, "Never mind."

"It's alright."

Arganan could sense that there was far less animosity between them. The air felt clearer between them for sure.

His chest felt warm again, and he looked down to see the mark on his chest glowing again. He could feel someone's presence.

"Zangurak?" Arganan let the word escape him.

Asthar looked to Arganan's mark. "Count Arganan, your mark...what you said, do you sense him? Zangurak, that is?"

Arganan nodded, getting up. "I do." He managed. He could feel the _anger boiling desperate need to make up for lack of arm must find it_ within him. "We have to find Zangurak before he finds the Lance. And I know he's headed towards it."

"Damn it." Dagran muttered, getting up. "I know where it is, so I'll go ahead. Maybe I can at least stall him until others arrive, or I can make some kind of signal so others will know..." He rushed out of the room before the other two could stop him.

Asthar looked to the door. "I saw the mark on Dagran's hand—the same mark of the Outsider that Zangurak once had. Zael visited me earlier—he told me what happened with him. Poor lad. I'm just glad he has some control over it now despite it overwhelming him back then."

"I know." Arganan stood, walking to the door, but he felt Asthar close a hand about his right wrist. He looked back to him, glaring at him. "What is it?"

"Count Arganan," Asthar managed, "Are you sure you want to go follow? I can follow Dagran."

"Yes, I want to follow. All of you came back to life because of me and I can't just stand here and do nothing about it." The former Count sharply replied. "Now let go!"

"Count Arganan." Asthar's voice was solemn, but eyes were calm and...full of some mirth? "You're not decently dressed and you lack an arm. I'll help you dress first, and then we'll rush after them."

Arganan felt his face heat up. Damn, what was he thinking!? "Erm, right." He managed. "That would be good."

* * *

Jirall sat on the side of the bed in his room, shivering. He still felt cold, and he was shivering. Apparently he'd obtained some minor hypothermia while being on the rotten, cold ship but it would go away after some warmth and sleep and stuff such as that.

 _A nice welcome present for being alive again, isn't it?_

Sleep helped. Sleep helped a lot. His mind was much better, much clearer now. Not completely clear, but clear enough that he could comprehend almost everything around him.

Calista was married to Zael.

It felt sick to him. All his life, he'd pined after her, only for Zael to snatch her away and it hurt so much—

"Jirall?"

He looked to his left to see none other than Calista walk in. She seemed worried.

"Can we..." She bit her lower lip, making eye contact with him. "Can we talk?"

He just stared at her for a moment. Why would she want to talk to him? She hated him, hates him, _doesn't she...?_

"Yes."


	6. Thoughts, Instinct

_**6\. Thoughts, Instinct**_

At least now Jirall had an idea of what was going on.

Arganan became 'Mitra's Bride,' a concept that even Arganan himself apparently didn't have much of an idea of how it worked, and everyone that was dead was now alive again.

Including Zangurak, who gave him the sword that took away his sanity (he shivered at that).

Well damn. He hadn't expected that.

"Jirall?" Calista's voice brought him back, and he looked up at her. She was still concerned. "Are you okay?"

Jirall nodded quickly, too quickly. "Yes." He managed. "I'm fine."

Before she could respond, the bang of the door opening resoudned through the room and both of them turned to see who it was.

Zangurak simply smiled slightly as he stood in the doorway. And it was not a good smile, either.

Calista stood, standing and beginning to activate her Holy magic. "Zangurak..."

Zangurak chuckled slightly, walking closer to them.

"Hello."

* * *

"This way!"

Arganan could feel it, feel the _dark mirth oh that's Calista Arganan and Jirall I'll have fun with them while retrieving my weapon_ from Zangurak. It felt odd that he could sense Zangurak in such a way, but he could feel the same with Dagran ( _I have to stop him!)_ and Asthar ( _battle plan, think, dealing with one-armed Gurak currently unarmed, any non-violent means...?)._

He could even sense Jirall ( _What the hell!?)_ and Zael right now ( _I feel like something is wrong, I...)._

Was this another one of his abilities as Mitra's Bride? Being able to hear the thoughts of others that were once dead?

He stopped in his tracks, still trying to think, and Asthar's voice brought him back to reality.

"Are you alright, Count Arganan?"

Arganan nodded quickly, looking up to face him. "I'll be fine, Asthar. Go ahead of me—I'll catch up."

Asthar nodded, before leaving. Arganan felt the mark on his chest warm up again, start glowing, and he knew that he couldn't just ignore it. His gut instinct told him to go to the armory. He didn't know why, but it just did.

Was Mitra perhaps trying to communicate with him through his mind...? Perhaps.

Arganan decided to take a risk and run to the armory.

* * *

Zangurak ducked as Calista shot a Holy spell at him, before he lunged forwards and grabbed her by the throat. She gasped, her hands reaching for him, flailing wildly, but he simply pressed harder on her throat. Even with one arm, he still retained some of his physical strength. Maybe he could work this to his advantage.

Looking to Jirall, he smirked as he saw the former heir of Rambaldt glaring at him.

"L-let her go," Jirall sputtered, grabbing a chair and holding it up to use as some pathetic makeshift weapon. "I-I mean it."

Zangurak simply responded to that by throwing Calista at Jirall, the two colliding into each other, Jirall staggering backwards against the wall and slumping into a sitting position, dropping the chair as he groaned painfully. The former King of the Gurak chuckled slightly, approaching Jirall's bed and reaching underneath it, finding none other than his Zan Lance.

Zangurak took a quick moment to examine his weapon. It was in decent shape, though he would have to sharpen the points later to make sure it was still lethal enough to subdue his foes. For now, though, it would still be helpful. He pointed his Lance at them, glaring. "Surrender," He demanded, " _now._ If you do not I will use what power I still have to at least terribly injure one of you, and I doubt you'd want that."

"Not so fast," a voice responded, and the former King of the Gurak growled as he faced Asthar, recognizing his voice. The once-deceased Genreal had a hard look on his face as he took out his sword and pointed it at him. "Zangurak, I would request that you drop your weapon immediately. Refusal to do that will result in most likely injuries on your part."

Zangurak looked to Jirall, attended to by Calista with healing magic, and then to Asthar. They were in tight quarters—which led to his disadvantage. And then there was the window...

Taking a chance, he rushed to the window, swiping at it with his lance. With a shatter of glass, he climbed through the window frame, hoping the enemy would be lured out.

* * *

Arganan rushed down the hall, a crossbow in hand (he grabbed it from the armory).

 _Shoot his arm shoot his arm shoot his arm_

Battle plans shook in his head, but he barely understood any of them. Shoot whose arm exactly, even?

He went to the courtyard, finding none other than Asthar and Zangurak on the roof, lance versus sword, one on one.

And his instincts yelled at him to _shoot him in the arm_

 _Shoot_ Zangurak _in the arm. Disarm do not kill._

Arganan growled slightly under his breath, holding up the crossbow as well as he could after putting an arrow in it. He'd never been good with crossbows when it came to military training from long ago, never could hold up these things too well. It was easier to swing a sword than take aim and fire at something.

What if he missed? What if he hit Asthar instead of Zangurak? What if he hit somewhere vital?

And despite all these worries, these little screams rousing his head, one thought roared above it all.

 _Shoot Zangurak in the arm._

 _NOW._

And he fired.

* * *

Calista heard Zangurak scream, and she looked up from tending to the unconscious Jirall to see an arrow sticking out of Zangurak's only arm. The former King of the Gurak winced, arm trembling as he dropped the lance. Asthar lunged forwards, hitting his head with the handle of his sword, and the King of the Gurak was out in a heartbeat.

The Countess of Lazulis looked to Jirall quickly (he would be fine, just knocked out) before she rushed to the window. "G-General Asthar!? Are you alright!?"

Asthar looked to her, then Zangurak. "I am fine, Lady Calista. As for Zangurak, he's currently out. What about you?"

Calista let a relieved sigh escape her. Zangurak was out for now, thank goodness. "I-I'm fine, Asthar." She climbed through the window, walking close to the edge of the roof (but not standing too close out of fear of falling) to see her uncle, holding the crossbow. "Uncle...thank you," She managed, the wind getting into her hair and pathetically trying to block her sight of him.

Her uncle looked more surprised that he actually hit Zangurak, the mark on his chest glowing, but he managed to compose himself. "I'm just glad you're safe." He managed.

Asthar nodded, looking to Arganan. "I'll bring Zangurak to the hospital wing. _And_ inform Lord Zesha and his brother Zepha about this. I think it might be good for them to talk to their first king, and their presence will help calm Zangurak, hopefully."

Arganan nodded. "Go ahead and do so." He looked down at the crossbow he held (and also to his glowing mark), then to Calista. "What about Jirall? Is he alright? I couldn't sense his thoughts anymore after I got the crossbow."

Calista stared at him. "Yes, he's alright, he got knocked out—wait." She had to process that information for a moment. "You can sense the thoughts of others?"

Her uncle nodded. "Yes. Apparently I can. Though I guess I cannot once they fall unconscious, though. I can't sense what Zangurak is feeling at the moment, either."

The Countess of Calista nodded, thinking. Perhaps the role of Mitra's Bride contained more power than she thought. Maybe it wasn't just a punishment for her uncle's actions, that it could be something more.

What in the world did her uncle's role of Mitra's Bride truly mean?


	7. Exchange

_7\. Exchange_

Zangurak knew right after waking up that he was not in good shape.

At all.

His left arm still stung from the wound he took from the arrow that _Count Arganan_ of all people shot at him, despite it being healed by magic while he was unconscious. Currently he was literally strapped down to the bed he laid in by chains (out of fear that he'd just leap out of bed and run, he supposed—as if it was that easy to do when lacking an arm and the remaining arm being injured), restricting most, and thankfully not all his movements.

Turning his head left and right to get a good look at his room, he heard the door creak open. Looking to his left, he noticed a young woman (was she familiar? Black hair with that feather...wait no, she wasn't familiar) enter the room, closing the door behind her and sitting in a chair beside his bed.

"Lord Zangurak?" She spoke up, her voice quiet. "I see that you're awake now."

Zangurak focused his attention to the woman. He could sense a calm atmosphere to her, with only hints of nervousness wracking her senses. "And who are you?" He spoke, his mind working quickly to process earlier events before he ripped off his own arm, but came up with nothing. He would have to weasel information out of her somehow.

"My name," His visitor stated, "is Mirania. I'm a nature mage...and also one of Zael's friends."

One of Zael's friends. That must mean that she was part of Dagran's mercenary group. He struggled briefly with his chained bonds, and he heard Mirania sigh.

"Lord Zangurak, I'd really just rest if I were you. You got hit quite badly in the head."

Did his head hurt that much? Did Asthar really hit it that hard? Apparently yes—he could feel his head throbbing now. At first he was more numb, but now his senses were somewhat awake. The former King of the Gurak winced slightly, feeling his head throb again, until he felt a warmth at the side of his head. He opened his eyes to see Mirania's hand held above his head. She was using healing magic to soothe his head.

So she must be a mage with healing magic at her disposal then. That made sense.

Mirania pulled her hand away after a moment, continuing. "However, Zesha and Zepha have wished to talk to you. Do you have enough strength to stay awake a while?"

Zangurak nodded, noticing her hands travelling to undo some of the chains. If he said yes...

"I do have enough strength." He managed. Mirania nodded, before undoing enough chains so that he could sit up in bed. The nature mage smiled gently at him, as if to comfort him, before she stood and turned to leave the room.

"I'll get Zesha and Zepha here momentarily." She spoke, before going into the hallway and closing the door behind her.

Zangurak took a deep breath. He had to keep his mind sharp, or at least as sharp as he could at the moment as his head still hurt a little bit. It would wear off in time, he reasoned.

Zesha and Zepha entered the room, and Zangurak had a double take at the sight of Zesha, dressed in robes fit for a king. The circlet with the gems and chains trailing at the back seemed to fit him better than any other normal crown he'd seen in books of monarchs, of history long ago.

"Lord Zangurak..." The two twins both sat quickly by his bedside, their expressions full of awe at their resurrected first king.

Zangurak looked to them quietly. "Tell me," He spoke quietly. "Tell me everything that's happened in my absence."

* * *

"They're with him now?" Arganan asked.

Mirania nodded. "Yes, Count Arganan."

Arganan nodded. "Thank you for telling me." He spoke, dismissing the nature mage. He sat in his own room, waiting until MIrania left the room to unbutton his shirt slightly and look to his mark.

It was still hard for him to believe that his military skills were sharpened since he came back into being, into this world. How else could he have went and shot Zangurak in the arm with a crossbow?

He put a hand to his mark, tracing the 'M' quietly.

 _Mitra...do you know anything about what it means to be your bride?_

He saw his mark light up, his chest get warm, and something in his thoughts told him to get up. Obeying those thoughts, he quietly stood, walking out of the room.

He would find himself walking down the hallway, down the stairs and heading in the direction of the military wing once he entered the courtyard.

"Where do you think you're going, Count Arganan?"

Arganan turned his head to glance sideways towards Zesha, who stood only a few feet away from him. The older man dared to raise an eyebrow at the new Gurak King.

"And why are you following me, Lord Zesha?"

Zesha shrugged slightly. "I'm just curious about where you're going. Although most of Lazulis doesn't know that you're still alive and also my fellow Gurak know nothing of my brother and Lord Zangurak's return yet, I would still think you'd be cautious."

Arganan frowned, turning completely to face him properly. "I'd like to think that I'm at least somewhat cautious."

Zesha grinned slightly. "Not cautious enough to sense me until I spoke, though."

Arganan had to admit that the Gurak was good with words. "True," He admitted, letting himself grin slightly.

Zesha's face morphed into some curiosity, like a cat. "Although...why are you headed to the military wing?"

Arganan had to think. How does one explain that the Sentinel Beast Mitra was compelling him to go to the military wing to talk to it/her/him?

No way out of it, he supposed. He would have to tell Zesha upfront.

"I was going to talk to Mitra. Sentinel Beast Mitra, that is. So if you want to be face to face with a Beast that could easily suck the entire life out of your veins, go ahead and join me." He responded. He might as well give the warning. Although he doubted Mitra would kill Arganan since he was its 'bride' of sorts, he was still occasionally plagued with nightmares of the Beast going and draining his entire life out of his body, just like their first encounter with each other.

Zesha simply smiled. "I'm interested."

Arganan stared. _"What?"_

"I'm interested," Zesha repeated, chuckling gently. "You humans are fascinating, even if they are repulsive at times...you're on the more fascinating side to me."

Arganan nodded awkwardly, turning to go to the military wing. "Erm, thank you."

"You are welcome."

The two made their way to the military wing, and Arganan felt his chest suddenly tighten. A weak gasp escaped his lips as he doubled over.

He could hear Zesha swear loudly, before he felt a firm hand on his shoulder, dark eyes baring into his. "A-are you—"

"Get away." The older man whispered, using his prosthetic arm to slap him away. This was not a heart attack, for that he was certain. It had to be Mitra. "I-I think Mitra is literally going to appear soon. In front of us—" Pain shook his system, but Zesha let him go. The older man felt his vision become blurry, and he couldn't understand anything else that Zesha spoke, and then—

 _Lights out._

* * *

He came to with Zesha shaking him hard, and he felt little bursts of warm magic coursing through his body.

"Damn it, wake up! Wake up, I'm telling you!"

Arganan opened his good eye, blinking a bit. "S-stop shaking me," He groaned, sitting up and looking to the King of the Gurak. "That hurts, dammit."

Zesha winced, letting go of him. "Apologies. You fainted only moments ago and I feared you died on the spot as you weren't breathing, which I assume your niece wouldn't be happy about."

Arganan felt his blood go cold at that. "No." He managed. "She wouldn't be." He looked to Zesha again, feeling his body cool down from whatever sparks he felt only a moment ago within him. "Did you use magic on me? I thought you were unable to do that so your brother did it instead."

Zesha nodded. "Yes. After my brother died, I studied a little magic. To remember him properly. But the best I can do is very weak healing magic, unfortunately."

The older man frowned. _Don't the Bolt Arrows flying through the air from your attacks count?_

Before he could ask, a soft, rumbling purr came from his left, and both turned to see none other than the majestic, monstrous Sentinel Beast Mitra across from them, sitting on its hind legs, its beady dark eyes gazing right at them.

Zesha looked to the Sentinel Beast.

"Amazing." He whispered softly, barely coherent enough for Arganan to hear.

Arganan looked to Mitra, then, to Zesha, then to Mitra again, before he got up and started walking towards him a bit.

"Mitra?" Arganan spoke up, swallowing a bit before speaking more. "Is there something you want to say?"

Mitra went on all fours, padding slowly towards him, its neck and head extending forwards. It purred softly, and Arganan reached out to stroke the creature between the eyes. Arganan could feel that he was processing something in his mind as he continued to pet Mitra there...

And what he felt that he was picking up was interesting.

"So I'm technically just as, if not more, powerful than Zael?"

Mitra purred softly again, bowing its head slightly as if trying to nod. Arganan nodded in acknowledgment of its answer. "I see." He looked to Zesha. "I can sense Mitra talking to me. In my head. Through my senses. It said that Mitra's bride is, technically, just as powerful as the wielders of the Outsider's power."

Zesha's eyes widened slightly at that as he approached them slowly. "Fascinating." The Gurak King spoke, unsure of what else to say, his eyes full of wonder. "Just as powerful, you say?"

Arganan nodded. "Yes."

Mitra growled slightly as Zesha drew near, but Arganan quickly stroked it between the eyes a bit faster with his hand, his other hand gently stroking its cheek. "It's okay, Mitra." Arganan whispered. "Zesha won't hurt you." He looked to Zesha. "Don't aggravate Mitra."

Zesha nodded slowly, now standing right beside them, watching Mitra quietly and saying nothing. Perhaps he was so much in awe that he didn't quite know what to do.

The older man gently touched Zesha's hand. He felt Zesha flinch, but then relax, and he lifted Zesha's hand to stroke Mitra between the eyes. Zesha looked to Arganan, then to where his hand was, and then copied Arganan's motions from earlier, stroking the Sentinel Beast between the eyes. Mitra blankly gazed at Zesha's hand on its head, before purring softly, closing its eyes.

Arganan couldn't help but grin slightly at this. "I think Mitra likes you a little bit."

Zesha looked to him. "You can tell?"

He nodded. "Yes."

There was silence between them, before Zesha broke it.

"Lord Zangurak has much information about the role of Mitra's Bride."

Arganan looked up at him. "Wait, wait...what?" He spoke.

Did he hear that right? Did Zangurak of all people actually have information about Mitra's Bride?

Zesha nodded. "You heard me. He has information that he could relay to you. After my brother and I told him about you receiving the mark of Mitra's Bride—" He pointed to the 'M'-shaped mark on Arganan's chest, "He wanted to talk to you, and hence why I followed you. However, he wants something in exchange for the information."

Arganan frowned, turning completely to Zesha and crossing his arms. "Like what?" He spoke, thinking of the worst case scenario in an instant. "Rule over Lazulis? No."

Zesha shook his head. "Not that, he wants...erm..." He touched Arganan's metal arm. "He wants one of those. To replace his right arm."

* * *

 **Author note: Thank you SO MUCH for reading and reviewing and favouriting this fic so far! I just thought I'd let all of you readers know that I have a poll on my profile, so go and vote if you'd like to, please! Thanks! :)**


	8. Unleash Adrenaline

_8\. Unleash Adrenaline_

Arganan sat across Zangurak, gazing at the new, metal arm that now replaced Zangurak's lack of a right arm.

"I gave you what you wanted." Arganan spoke crisply, gazing right into the Gurak's eyes. "Now talk. Zesha said you had information about Mitra's Bride, so you can tell me."

Zangurak chuckled slightly at this, seemingly leering right back at him. "You should be more grateful that I am willing to pass this information to you, human." The first King of the Gurak spoke, opening and closing a fist with his new arm. Arganan looked to Zangurak's new arm quietly—he noticed it was made out of metal at least similar to the metal used for his own left arm.

It felt strange, being with him, sitting in the same room as him, sharing the same condition of missing a limb (or two in Arganan's case).

Arganan merely shrugged, doing his best to keep his composure. "I suppose I should," He responded quietly. "What do you have to tell me about Mitra's Bride?"

Zangurak looked to the mark on Arganan's chest, exposed from Arganan's unbuttoned collar. "As you may know already, you are permanently bound to the Sentinel Beast Mitra due to being Mitra's Bride. Even when retaining a physical form, you _will_ feel Mitra's presence within you, including how it may feel emotionally, not just physically. It might even control you at times, but you can resist it by thinking otherwise."

"Control me?" Arganan didn't think of that. "How?"

Zangurak tapped the side of the older man's head with a finger, chuckling slightly. "Mitra would control your mind, Arganan. It has the tendency to do it to its Bride, as far as I remember reading. Though you can assert yourself if you fight back. If you fight against your instincts. Sometimes it'll creep into your mind and make you do things subconsciously. You wouldn't realize it until later."

Arganan looked down to his mark, running a finger over it. "And if I fight enough, Mitra would know when to take charge and when not to?"

"Yes." The other responded, tilting his head slightly like a curious child. "You'll both find a way to cooperate with each other somehow. Or at least I hope so."

Arganan decided that he had something else to ask ."What about Sentinel Beast Atar? Is it possible for it to have a Bride also?"

Zangurak shook his head, running a hand through his red hair. "No." He responded quickly. "It's impossible. Atar is full of rage all the time. It would completely annihilate and eternally torture its Bride if it had one. But Mitra is merely full of loneliness. So having a Bride would obviously work better for Mitra, and not so much for Atar."

"I see..." The older man couldn't help but think about it. From what Zangurak was telling him, it made sense...but...

"I should also tell you," Zangurak responded, "That the power of the Outsider works differently for everyone that uses it. Since you are Mitra's Bride, I have the theory that you might inherit its abilities since you are its 'bride,' but this could also mean you could have its power but use it in a different way."

Arganan winced slightly. "Let's hope it doesn't include having the life sucked out of me again and again."

No matter how at ease he could feel about Mitra, it was near impossible to forget his first encounter with the Sentinel Beast.

Zangurak seemed to chuckle slgihtly. "I'm more than sure that it wouldn't, especially if you get along with it so well _now."_

* * *

Arganan wandered through the Military Wing quietly. He decided that the best way to figure out his abilities as Mitra's Bride would be to experiment a little, so—

 _"I don't want to get married!"_

He turned to see none other than Zesha, almost angrily walking away from some of his fellow Gurak. Arganan guessed that they must be his advisors or something, judging by what they were wearing.

"But sire," One of the Gurak countrymen spoke up, "It would surely boost the morale of our people. Do you not want to see them happy?"

Zesha seemed to freeze slightly, and then glared at him and ther est of the advisors, all of whom went silent at meeting his glare. "Of course I want them happy." He muttered. "But that doesn't mean we need to necessarily resort to marriage as the first choice. There are surely other alternatives."

"But—"

"Leave my brother alone."

Everyone in a heartbeat turned to see Zepha, who was glaring at the advisors.

"What?" the advisor managed weakly.

"Leave him alone." Zepha repeated, slowly taking a few steps towards him. "He's the King. He can think. He knows that there are alternatives to just marriage to keep our people happy. The Continent is now bursting with more life than before, is it not? Are people not being fed, being sheltered?"

"W-well, they are..." Another advisor managed.

"So they should be happy for that alone. That their King is capable of providing for them." Zepha responded. "Such a 'morale boost' is not always needed to keep people happy. You may suggest all you like, but he is the King and therefore he has the final say. Don't you dare think you have any more power than him."

Zesha blinked in surprise, before he looked to the advisors. "Leave us at once." He hissed. _"Now."_

Immediately all the advisors turned tail and fled, and Zesha looked to Zepha quietly after they left.

"Thank you, brother."

Zepha nodded quietly to acknowledge it. "You are welcome...though I can't be here for you all the time like that."

Zesha nodded, a soft sigh escaping him. "O-of course. They just keep pressuring me, day after day. I almost wanted to take out my East Wing and West Wing and chop their heads off, but that wouldn't show for good self-control."

Zepha chuckled slightly. "At least you didn't do it any earlier, brother." He then looked to Arganan. "Oh? And what are you doing here?"

Arganan nearly jumped in surprise—he didn't think they'd notice him too easily. "I was just taking a look around." He managed. "Zangurak told me what he knew (or most of what he knew if not all of it) about Mitra's Bride, so I thought I would test out my abilities down here."

Zesha's eyes lit up at that. "Oh? Is that so?" He seemed to smile slightly—a sudden change from his previous mood. Perhaps part of the new Gurak King still yearned for the battlefield, the rush of adrenaline flowing in his veins. Arganan knew that he missed that after he lost his left limbs, long ago. "Then..."

Both brothers seemed to read each other's minds, taking out one of their swords.

"Permit us," Zepha started, "To battle you."

Arganan stared. "Wait, what?"

Zesha chuckled, grinning. "You heard us. I assume that for something as great as Mitra's Bride's powers, you would need decent opponents."

 _So they knew about my abilities as Mitra's Bride too. Zangurak must have told them._

Arganan took a deep breath, before nodded. "Alright."

He felt part of him sigh inside, as if it took a breath of fresh air, blurred memories of battle coming back to his mind after so long.

"Let's see what we can do."


End file.
